


My Last Big Breath

by Emotionalsorbet



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Stony - Freeform, Stony Drabble, worried steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:30:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4507839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emotionalsorbet/pseuds/Emotionalsorbet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony snores in his sleep</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Last Big Breath

Tony snores in his sleep.

Steve doesn't really mind it, though, because the noise is soft, and really only occasional. Every now and then, it will interrupt the silence of the night, but other than that, he can't seem to find a problem with the sound. So as long as no serious health complications are behind its existence, there's no reason to disturb the fantasies dancing behind Tony's eyelids while he rests. His breaths are even, and it's pretty much the only time Steve sees the man reveling in thorough serenity.

Of course, the peace being experienced at that very moment isn't always present. Steve knows that--the concept is simple, preventing them from ever spending too much time in worlds of luxury. Duties are required to be attended to, and responsibilities weigh their shoulders down with more pressure than the heaviest boulder. But that's not even to mention the negative opinions shot their way after every mission. Failures haunt them. Successes are never quite enough.

They're pressed against each other when Steve runs over the events of the previous day's interview, closing in on the details concerning the displeased portion of the audience. Mostly, they had directed their qualms toward the actions of iron man, of his irrational risks and faulty plans. He'd watched Tony after that, catching sight of the way his chest moved slightly quicker at the verbalizing of the comments. Although he seemed temporarily thrown off, his composure remained in tact, debuting its sole sign of vulnerability through the wordless opening and closing of his lips. Nothing further was said to appease the crowd, as there were scripts the team was to follow.

No one had mentioned the occasion when they were dismissed, but Tony's inhales and exhales were still being drawn at an increased pace, and in a way, that worried Steve. The cause was not one for a topic of conversation--Tony never talked about these situations, so it was understood that the subject should be left to the silence of curiosity.

That's just what it became--Steve was left to wonder, following faltering faith to a sure intertwining of their fingers. At first, it was strange seeing the rate in which Tony could calm his thoughts. Heart beats would go from racing to steady within moments, and Tony would flash a smile, showing absolutely no signs of his breaths ever having accelerated. Now, though, the variety was a sort of cross, stuck somewhere between fascinating and frightening, because, sure, oxygen is taken in at different rates depending entirely on the state of mind, but what happened on events when Tony was struggling?

In hopes of maintaining the mood of the room, Steve tried not to let his thoughts wander to such visions. Though, and much to his dismay, the attempts were fruitless.

Soon enough, he was picturing it, recreating mental portraits of Tony in times of nearing death. New York crossed his path first, leaving his own chest to ache with every breath that was cut short by the dangerous atmosphere of space. Several other battles followed suit, demonstrating frantic gulps of air rather than the painless intake his lungs should have been acquiring. A bit of anxiety had welled up in his body, flushing throughout his veins with every passing second. A series of gasps ran through his ears-- _Tony wasn't safe._

But then again, Tony _was_ safe. He was there, draped in a warm embrace and gently raising his head from its former position on Steve's chest. Strands of hair hung down onto his forehead of which he later tried to blow from his perspective. When he failed, he sighed, dropping his chin back onto Steve's collar bone.

"Morning, " he whispered, and Steve smiled. Although he was no longer snoring, his breaths were falling even, and everything was alright.


End file.
